


Everything Changes

by Nabatean_Nan



Series: Setleth Modern AU [3]
Category: Fire Emblem: Fuukasetsugetsu | Fire Emblem: Three Houses
Genre: Childbirth, F/M, mentions of other characters but if they aren't tagged they aren't important (yet)
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2019-10-04
Updated: 2019-10-03
Packaged: 2020-11-23 03:55:55
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,065
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/20885720
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Nabatean_Nan/pseuds/Nabatean_Nan
Summary: Byleth's and Seteth's lives change forever after the birth of their little bab.====aka Sometimes I just really want to write baby fic, okay?The title comes from Waitress's 'Everything Changes'.





	Everything Changes

The baby is born in the night, nearly half-past three. That’s what Seteth tells her, anyway, but time honestly doesn’t have any meaning to Byleth anymore. The anesthesiologist gave her an epidural, but she wonders if it actually did anything other than make her legs numb. Maybe it was fake, maybe it was just so she didn’t get up and run. She wanted to leave, she begged Seteth to let her leave, but they couldn’t. 

Everything was fine until Flayn had to leave. It was far past her bedtime. Even though she wanted to stay to meet the baby, she was falling asleep in Seteth’s lap. It would be far better for her to sleep in a bed, they decided. Seteth ultimately made the executive decision to call Indech to babysit for the night. He, of course, was happy to. She wasn’t even awake to wave a weary goodbye to Byleth, and honestly, she thinks that’s why all hell broke loose. She didn’t have her little good luck charm’s blessing. 

Not even fifteen minutes after Flayn left, Byleth’s water broke. Movies and fanfic had her believe that that was it, the baby would be born soon, but  _ no _ . Apparently that’s fake because she continued to writhe on her little hospital bed for hours while Seteth held her hand, tried to distract her, massaged her back, whatever he could do other than just surgically remove the baby himself. The doctor said everything was fine. There was no need for a c-section. 

“I bet Flayn popped right out,” Byleth had mumbled. “I bet Morrigan didn’t even smudge her makeup.”

Seteth chuckled. “Morrigan was in labor for two days.”

Byleth’s mouth gaped. “You’re joking.”

“They had to induce her.” He smiled as if it was a fond memory. “She was a disaster. But no, she didn’t smudge her makeup. She didn’t have the energy to put any on.”

Byleth whined, “I must look like a raccoon.”

He smiled and smoothed her hair day, pulling some of it out of her eyes. “Most of your mascara is on your hands, now.”

She looked down at her hands and, sure enough, they were covered in little black blotches. Certainly her face was still covered in mascara, there was no escaping it, but her hands certainly looked gruesome. She made a gagging face and smeared her hands on Seteth’s shirt. He had only chuckled. He’s an absolute darling, though, because after that he went to the bathroom to get some paper towels and wipe down her face. The cool water felt refreshing, and he seemed happy to pat her down throughout the night. 

“Anything to help you feel better,” he had said. “I know I can’t really understand your pain, but... well, it’s hard not to see it.”

Byleth doesn’t cry often. She cried when her mom died, she cried for weeks when her dad died, and she cried when Seteth tried to be all sappy with her when she was about to have their baby. She pushed him away, called him an emotional idiot, and he just laughed at her and gave her a kiss. 

When it was finally time to push, she suddenly wasn’t ready. The doctor examined her one last time, announced her fully dilated, and she just closed her legs. They tried to coo at her, tell her she was ready, but she wasn’t! Once that baby was out, that was it. She would be a mom, she would have something to take care of, someone depending on her, and she wasn’t ready in the least bit. She started to hyperventilate, but then Seteth placed a hand on her shoulder and squeezed it tight. 

“You can do this,” he said. “It’s alright. I’m right here with you, by your side.”

It still took far too long for that baby to be born. Forty-five minutes of pushing, Seteth told her later. Ridiculous. When it was finally done, though, there was no mistaking it. The delivery room was full of screaming, crying. That baby was  _ angry _ . Byleth would feel bad about it later, but she was far too exhausted to care. As soon as that baby was born, she was lying down and crying herself. Seteth gets up, just to stand, just to look. He wants to see their baby, and suddenly it occurs to Byleth that the baby isn’t in her arms. The doctor has her baby, and it’s only been a few seconds, but it’s so wrong. 

Finally, after what feels like hours, they hand her baby to her. Seteth beams at her side, eager looking over her shoulder at their baby. Their son. 

He’s still gross. Absolutely disgusting, not at all clean, covered in blood and amniotic fluid, but he’s their son. 

“What’s his name?” a nurse asks. 

“Malachi,” Byleth says softly. “Malachi Jeralt.”

He looks up at her like he wants to curse her, and Byleth can’t really blame him. He was so nice and cozy, swimming around in her body. How dare she make him move? Seteth reaches towards his head and runs his fingers through his hair. It’s soft, green like his sister’s. It almost looks like apple-flavored cotton candy. Malachi opens his little mouth in a yawn, and Byleth can’t help but reach her finger up and poke gently at his nose. He grabs her finger in a death grip, and she smiles sweetly at him. 

“Malachi Jeralt Feathal,” Someone, another nurse or the doctor, says. “Born at three twenty-five, on the twentieth of the Great Tree Moon.”

Byleth’s heart stops. “What day is it?” She asks Seteth, quietly. 

“The twentieth?” He says, and he smiles down at their little boy. “Malachi’s birthday.”

“But... it’s the twentieth. Of the Great Tree Moon?”

Seteth suddenly realizes she isn’t playing with him, she doesn’t have a joke. He looks back up at her with his brows drawn. “What’s the matter?”

“Seteth,” Byleth hisses. “He’s got green hair!”

Now he’s pouting. Byleth would think it was cute if she weren’t having a crisis. “I think it suits him.”

“Seteth,” she hisses again. “He was born on  _ 4/20. _ ”

That gets to him. He shuts his mouth and Byleth swears she can see math equations running around in his eyes. Their poor little darling angel, green-haired little bundle of joy. Byleth would carve down armies for him. 

The poor thing was born on the weed day. 

**Author's Note:**

> I'm not sure if 4/20 is as big outside of the US so here's a brief explanation of the joke at the end just in case:
> 
> April the 20th is commonly 'celebrated' as the "weed day" in the US because when you write the date in the US-style it's 4/20 aka 420, which for some reason is commonly associated with weed/marijuana. Literally no one knows why. There are all sorts of theories but none have been proven afaik. So poor Malachi is a weed baby, and he has green hair so he's an eXTRA weed baby.
> 
> as always find me on twitter @nanatee_fanatee


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